Making A Start
by John Hancock
Summary: Albert's first attempt to ride Joey proves to be unexpectedly exciting.


It was a superbly glorious day - not at all the type of day one would wish to spend raking out the inside of a barn; but that was just the thing Albert was doing, though not without some small objection. He grumbled crossly to himself as he raked, coming dangerously close to hitting Joey - who had chosen to stand nearby - in the head with the rake handle. Joey hastily moved out of the way of the wildly brandished handle, but while doing so, managed to ineptly step in the way of Albert, and the two collided most ungracefully. Albert turned to Joey and sighed with exasperation.

"Joey, why don't you go outside for a while? It's a nice day out - no need for the both of us to be stuck in here."

He pushed the horse in the direction of the door, and Joey began to make for the pasture, but had made it no further than the door frame when he turned, holding his head and ears in a ridiculous fashion, which all but said, "If I need not be stuck in here, why should you?"

Albert shook his head, and, stepping to his horse, stroked his neck. "You want to play, don't you, Joey? But I can't go out just yet; perhaps later."

But Joey seemed resolute in his decision that play was more important at the moment, and he rubbed his head impatiently against Albert's shoulder, an action which was almost effective in knocking Albert off his feet. Albert smiled.

"A bit impatient, then? I see what you mean - it's a great day for running." He paused, suddenly engaged in earnest debate with himself; his deliberation did not last long. "All right, old boy, you win. But only for a little while, right?" Albert began to collect the things they would need, and, as Joey looked on with intent curiosity, he gave discourse.

"We'll need the lunge line, of course, and the whip. How about the saddle today, Joey? No, there ain't no need for worrying, now; you know what this is - you've worn it before, see?"

Albert allowed for Joey's hasty study of the saddle, as well as the other things, before he heaped the entire lot just outside the door. Returning to the barn for Joey's halter, a rather impulsive thought struck him, and he picked up an additional lead rope.

"Just in case, you know, Joey - I've a bit of an idea."

After saddling Joey, Albert led him far across the pasture, well out of sight of the house. Laying the lunge line and whip on the ground, Albert turned to Joey.

"We're going to try something a little different today, all right?" He attached the other lead rope to the halter, creating, in effect, a makeshift bridle. Stepping to Joey's side, he patted the horse's neck.

"Now, I've not been on a horse in a while, you see, so we'll both be learning together." Joey did not appear to understand Albert's new venture, but stood expectantly, nonetheless. Taking his improvisational reins up in a slightly unsteady hand, Albert gingerly placed his foot in the stirrup, and then, very slowly, began to lift himself onto Joey's back. Joey, unused to the feel of this extra weight, moved briskly to the side, causing Albert to lose his footing and slip to the ground. Albert shook his head.

"No, that's not it. You just got to hold still and I'll get on, real easy like - nothing to be afraid of." Albert found he said this as much to reassure himself as his horse, as he again slipped his foot in the stirrup and began to mount. This second attempt produced more desirable effects than the first, and Albert found himself sitting astride Joey.

"Nicely done, then. See, it's not so different, is it?" He warily tousled Joey's mane.

"All right. Next thing: you've got to move. Now, I'll squeeze your sides with my heels, and click to you, and you move forward, right?" Albert did accordingly, but Joey either did not quite comprehend his role, or was purposely feigning stupidity.

"No, no. Forward, Joey."

Albert became a bit more vehement, but with no result. Sighing, he sat back in the saddle, and shifted his weight around in exasperation, attempting to achieve the desired results. Joey turned his head to look at his master, bewildered at this seemingly strange behaviour (or perhaps even laughing to himself at the ridiculous sight). Albert again clicked at Joey.

"Come on, then, Joey, you know what that means."

Joey remained standing.

"Come on, silly!"

As the horse remained stubbornly motionless, Albert sighed and sat back, considering his next course of action. A sudden clatter sounded from the barn - a clatter that bore a striking resemblance to the sound of Joey's feed bucket. This, Joey understood, and he immediately bolted. Albert, not expecting the sudden and drastic change of pace, made a sound peculiarly similar to a yelp and clutched at both the reins and Joey's mane, managing - though only just so - to remain atop the runaway horse. Joey knew precisely where it was that he wanted to go, and he was firmly minded to arrive there as quickly as was attainable. The wind sang in Albert's ears, and stung his face, bringing tears to his eyes and stealing the breath from him; the feeling was both exhilarating and highly alarming. Joey sped down the hill and across the pasture, making for the barn. As they neared, Albert frantically endeavoured to check his uncontrolled steed, but with little success; it almost seemed that Joey meant to take down the barn door. Albert braced, preparing to hit the wooden wall. At the last possible moment, Joey dug his hooves into the dirt, and, rearing, stopped only mere inches from the door, shaking violently from the excitement, looking wildly for the feed he expected to receive. The only sight that met his gaze, however, was a bewildered Harold, standing beside the bucket he had so very clumsily managed to knock over.

Albert sat, stupefied, striving to regain his breath and wits. Slowly, he wrested his quivering hand from the reins and reached down to pat Joey. He gave a singularly nervous laugh.

"Well, that's a start."


End file.
